Virtuoso
by green lion
Summary: Carmen's soul was like a finely-tuned Stradivarius; it took a true maestro to sound all the strings. A missing scene from the finale of "The Tigress."


Summary: Carmen's soul was like a finely-tuned Stradivarius; it took a true maestro to sound all the strings. A missing scene from the finale of "The Tigress."

Disclaimer: If I owned WOEICS, I'd quit my day job and write mystery novels in Marjorca. Really I would.

Author's Note: For aptasi, resident fanfiction virtuoso, who encouraged me to exorcise my demons. And for Mirei, a modest dose of Carmen-Ivy.

* * *

Carmen had often thought over the course of her criminal career that to choose the moment of one's capture was a bit like planning one's own death; a fine idea in the abstract, but somewhat difficult to accept in the flesh. She had promised herself, years ago, that should the occasion ever actually arise where the detectives had at last outsmarted her and she was truly without a trick up her sleeve, she would go gently into that good night with as much dignity as she could muster.

In the bitter, biting cold of Antarctica, surrounded by a phalanx of law enforcement agents from a half dozen countries, it seemed the inevitable day had finally arrived

Her cheeks were still hot with embarrassment and surprise when the cold steel locked around her wrists. And a third feeling…was it pride? Pride that out of all the detectives who had ever chased her, it was these two here with her now. They were neither the cleverest nor the most daring, but they were the ones she had allowed herself to care for; a bizarre honor in and of itself.

As they marched her in lockstep toward the iron behemoth that would transport her to prison, the master thief wondered if this surge of quasi-maternal affection would be enough to sustain her through the media blitz, courtroom drama, and confinement that were in her near future.

She had nothing to fear, she told herself. Carmen had been anticipating her capture nearly as long as she'd been a thief. Plans had been laid, supplies had been hidden, and the right people had been bribed. Who knew? Maybe she'd enjoy breaking out of jail almost as much as she adored breaking into museums. But somehow, she doubted it.

"We did it, sis! We finally did it. We captured Carmen Sandiego!" Zack exclaimed, with an exuberance that would have made Carmen smile, were this not the equivalent of her own funeral.

She could feel Ivy's hand on the small of her back pressing her forward, a strange intimacy. "I never thought this day would come," the girl beamed. She locked eyes with the thief and spoke in a tone that plucked sour notes in the deepest register of Carmen's soul. "And we did it by playing upon your worst faults."

"Pride, competitiveness…" Zack began.

"Your damned desire to be a better thief or detective than anyone that ever lived," Ivy muttered.

Carmen couldn't deny that the young detectives were right. Her soul was like a finely-tuned Stradivarius; it took a true maestro to sound all the strings. A new feeling floated up, piercing her numb-like calm, which she recognized as disappointment. Truthfully she had not dashed off to Antarctica for the sole purpose of vanquishing an upstart. "You forgot hope," she added hoarsely.

Ivy was stunned. "Hope?"

Time had slowed as the snow fell around them. The adrenaline coursing through her veins and the shock of being captured blended to make the whole experience frighteningly surreal. Oddly, her gaze kept drifting back to Ivy's costume, as if there was something important to remember there. Other than a vivid memory from the recent past. The moment where she thought that she might have found in the Tigress what she had failed to find in Lee and had abandoned hope of ever discovering- another like herself.

When the mysterious rival had turned out to be Ivy (aided by Zack) all along, it was really too much for words. So much so, that Carmen wouldn't dream of expressing it. So instead she laughed, "Ivy, you are a terrible tease."

Ivy raised a ginger eyebrow and shared a significant look with her brother, who shrugged.

The master thief continued with a joviality she didn't really feel, "Sometimes I look at you and think, what a waste."

"Yeah, I look at you and think the same thing, Carmen. All the time." The younger woman punctuated her response with a slight shove into an empty army surplus truck. With a canvas roof.

At times of emotional vulnerability the best defense was usually a good offense. Lest Ivy forget, Carmen could tremor her heartstrings, too, and therefore chose her words to wound. "And what will you do now, detective, that you have tasted the forbidden fruit of my chosen profession? Especially when I am no longer at large to keep you occupied with more…wholesome pleasures."

"If you think I would ever be tempted to become a thief like you, Carmen, dream on. Besides, seeing you rot in prison is all the pleasure I need." While Ivy wore a look of disgust Carmen remembered well from her own detective days, the great thief noted with satisfaction that Zack appeared slightly worried. _Ah_. She had hit her target after all.

Brother and sister continued to congratulate themselves on her demise but Carmen wasn't really listening; her sensitive ears were trained on the mechanical creak of the cargo door wrenching shut, the sound of her freedom slipping away. There was really no coming back from this now. Best to just let go, relax, and resign herself to the inevitable. Oddly similar to dying of hypothermia, and hopefully just as painless.

And in a flash, the brilliant intuitive instrument that was her brain resolved her dilemma with a rather elegant geometry:

_Anti-gravity footwear + Canvas roof – A slowly closing door= Escape_

But did she want to?

A glance at Ivy and Zack, their faces flush with accomplishment, made her heart ache. It pained her, not a little, to snatch away their victory. And wasn't it better to do it this way with some aplomb, than risk capture at the hands of someone who was less deserving?

The better angels of her nature at war with the thrill and the allure of a daring, last-minute get away, made even sweeter by its improvised nature. A planned escape was exhilarating enough; a spontaneous one stolen from the jaws of certain defeat was nigh on irresistible.

Her better angels lost. They'd been losing for years.

"Never let the enemy know your secrets," she whispered before flying away. A warning to the detectives, but also to herself. She had revealed far more to them than she had ever intended.

Running through the snow and ice minutes later, sweat freezing to her brow, Carmen rationalized that her choice was cruel, but fair. Ivy and Zack would deny her the thing she longed for most, forever and always. It was only fitting Carmen disappoint them in return.

* * *

_Postscript_

"We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory…will swell when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature."  
— Abraham Lincoln, _First Inaugural Address_, 1861


End file.
